


Day 16 - Springer

by GemmaRose



Series: Lost Light Fest 2020 [6]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: First Meetings, Flirting, Functionist Universe (Transformers), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: They are not the only ones spitting in the face of the Functionists, Spinger has known this since before he left the safety of his creators' lab. This is the first time he's met any of the others, though.
Relationships: Springer & Whirl (Transformers), Springer (Transformers) & Original Character(s)
Series: Lost Light Fest 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947964
Kudos: 6





	Day 16 - Springer

When he’d convinced his new friends to leave Tor with him, he hadn’t really had a plan beyond getting out and getting somewhere safe. What they would do as fugitives, how they’d get energon and work out the anger which simmered in all of them, that had all been figured out on the fly. As it turned out, outright theft was, in fact, a viable way to support yourself when you were part of a heavily armed and armoured group, several of whom were frighteningly competent.

Okay, admittedly the frightening part was mostly on Whirl. Damn crazy heli had as much experience as the rest of them put together. Pit, maybe even more. He’d lived through the Council’s rise to power, and spent the majority of that with a gun in his hand. All he’d needed to be convinced to leave their mutual post was someone with the bolts to speak up and suggest such a thing, a group to stick with. It wasn’t safe for any one mech out here, not when you were going against the Council.

“Oi, Glorious Leader.” something pinged off the back of his helm,, drawing Springer’s attention back to the present, to his hands mechanically loading energon cubes into his subspace. His very full subspace, oops. He was gonna be listing on the flight back.

“What is it, Whirl?” he asked, popping the lid off the cube in his hand and slugging half of it as he turned. How Whirl managed to make that stupid nickname sound so insulting, he honestly wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t deny it was kinda impressive.

“We’ve got company.” Whirl hissed. Springer set his cube down quickly, grabbing his gun from where it was magnetised to his thigh. Whirl was never quiet unless it was _serious_.

“How many?” he asked, matching Whirl’s volume as he sent warning pings to the other Wreckers down the hall, who were busy looting weapons and ammo and keeping an optic out for guards.

“Five, I think. I’m getting weird heat readings.” Whirl gestured down the hall, towards where they’d broken in. Springer tuned his own sensors in that direction, silently thanking Mesothulas yet again for giving him the best available equipment when he got upgraded into his current frame. Sure enough, a gaggle of mid-sized mechs was heading their way, weapons in hand, running hot. One of them ran so hot they must be near out of coolant, and Springer immediately relegated them to the least threat.

“We can handle five, but we’ll have to be quick about it.” he said, flicking off the safety on his blaster. “Weird that they didn’t trip the alarm, though.”

“Glory hounds.” Whirl said confidently. “I never hit the alarm ‘til I was done handling the problem.”

Something clanged to the floor in the next room over, and Springer swore under his breath. “Now!” he shouted, and threw himself out into the hall, firing as fast as his gun could go. He aimed low, Whirl aimed high, and a gout of flame had them both stumbling back. Whirl’s pedes went out from under him when Springer backed into him too hard, and Springer’s rotor snagged in Whirl’s legs when he went down over him.

A pede planted firmly on his chest, just hot enough to make his paint crackle, and the mech over him barked what were unmistakably orders in a language Springer couldn’t understand. The rest of the mechs they’d fired on rushed past, and cool blue optics looked down at him from under a rounded helm painted a rich, vibrant purple with energon pink accents. “You will tell your mechs to stand down.” Calidus said, his voice deep and smooth and oh primus now was _not_ the time to be getting revved up.

“What if I don’t?” he challenged. Every security mech in the Council’s employ knew about the Arsonists, knew about their leader who wore flames the colour of processed energon and left whole city blocks burnt to slag in his wake. It had been a joke, that the Arsonists did more good by making work for labour frames than they did by destroying whatever target they hit that deca-cycle. Now that he had a chance to talk to the mech in the metal, he wanted to get a measure of him.

“They’ll get one chance to surrender.” Calidus said, optics narrowing. “Either they give us their haul and leave in peace, or they join us and reap the benefits of being Arsonists.” the flamethrower mounted on his arm ignited, and Springer found himself staring into a flickering heart of purple-blue which made his faceplates swelter from its proximity.

“And either way you smelt _both of us_.” Whirl snapped, flailing and kicking at Springer’s helm. “Hey idiots, stand down!” he hollered, and Springer rolled his optics.

“I was _going to_ call that.” he huffed, levering himself up as Calidus’s pede lifted from his chest. “I’m not suicidal.”

“Says the one who got us all to leave in the first place.” Whirl grumbled. Springer flipped him off.

“So, whattaya say?” Calidus held a hand out to him with a smirk that definitely should’ve been more annoying than attractive, yet somehow wasn’t. “Wanna become an Arsonist?”

“No thanks.” Springer took his hand, accepting the help getting to his pedes. “No offense, but I doubt you could handle the Wreckers.”

“You’d be surprised what I can handle.” Calidus’s field flickered playfully against his, optics flicking over his frame.

“We’ll work with you.” Springer decided, giving Calidus’s hand a firm squeeze before dropping it. “But we’ll not take your flames.”

Calidus groaned, hanging his helm back. “I keep _saying_ they’re not mandatory.”

“Idunno, I think I’d look pretty dashing with some flames on me.” Whirl mused, stroking the lower edges of his cockpit.

“I’m not siccing you on these mechs.” Springer said firmly.

“Here.” Calidus said abruptly, grabbing his hand again and pressing something into it. “Have your mechs help mine get what we came for, and once we’re all out safely use this to get in touch. I know a couple places we can meet up off the grid to work out the finer details.”

“Sounds like a deal.” Springer nodded, tucking the little external comm into his subspace. “Whirl, spread the news. I’ll help Calidus here with whatever he’s doing personally.”

Whirl revved his engine, somehow managing to project the impression of a slag-eating grin despite his lack of a face. Springer flipped him off again as he headed down the hall.

“I see why you don’t want him leaving your command.” Calidus said drily.

“You have no idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to any not-logged-in readers, but due to an ex who refuses to leave me alone I have had to disable anon comments. Kudos are still open though, and if you want to scream (or would like me to write a fic for you) come check me out on Pillowfort! No account required to get my discord, and I'm always happy to chat. [[Link](https://www.pillowfort.social/GemmaRose)]


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